No Good Deed
by Anonymous-cat
Summary: [KOTOR2] On the dead planet of Malachor V, one exiled Jedi's hope is extinguished, and she makes a terrible vow. Oneshot.


Author's Note- This one-shot could be considered a song-fic, since it was inspired by a song and includes a few quotes from the song in the dialogue. In fact, it was meant to be a song fic, but because of the rules at I've altered it so that it can be read as just a fic. However, some of the lines near the end I do not totally own, they came from the lyrics of the song "No Good Deed" from the musical 'Wicked'.

Also, the dialogue at the beginning is not mine, it came from a part of the game that was left on the cutting room floor. The dialogue was included in some of the files, however, and I have been able to get a copy of what it said, and decided it would make a good basis for a fic.

And again, none of the characters or places mentioned here belong to me, except maybe Alexian's name. The rest belong to Lucas Arts and Obsidian Entertainment.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Every step she took served only to drive it deeper into her mind. Each step was a nail in the coffin. Kreia's coffin.

Earlier on in her journey, she had often wished the old woman dead, for her nagging and inability to think beyond herself. She had pushed the thoughts away as best as she could, but they came back to haunt her now. And to add to her already overwhelming supply of guilt.

Kreia was dead. And Alexian had killed her.

She wandered the halls of the Trayus Academy aimlessly. What else was there for her? She had seen no sign of any of he crew members when they crashed here. Alexian had been thrown from the ship, and when she awoke she could find no way to enter it and see if there were any still among the living. It had occurred to her that they might have been thrown clear of the ship as well, so she had journeyed across the planet to search for them. But she had found the Trayus Academy instead.

Now that Kreia, no, Darth Traya was dead, Alexian supposed she must return to her search. She felt in her heart that others still lived, but she couldn't bring herself to search them out, not yet.

In the end, it turned out that she didn't have to search.

Outside the Academy, She watched as Atton and Disciple walked towards each other from opposite ends of the clearing. Her heart leaped for a moment to see that they were both still alive. Then it crashed to the ground. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

"Hey, kid," Atton greeted the young Jedi. His voice was full of contempt- contempt Alexian couldn't understand. He and the Disciple had never been best friends, but this…

"Atton!" Disciple said, worry etching through his tone. "The Exile, where is she?"

"She's safe. You don't need to worry about her. You never did, really."

What? Alexian's head spun. She and Disciple… they were good friends. And possibly more than just friends, she thought. She knew that Atton had resented their feelings for each other, but not to this extent.

"You know how long it's been since I killed a Jedi?" Atton asked, somewhat casually. "You get a taste for it, you know. I killed a bunch here on Malachor, while the planet was dying. Killing a half-Jedi like you should hold me over until the next one comes along. They always do, you know."

Everything in Alexian screamed at her to run outside, stop Atton, cut him down before he could hurt Disciple. But she was rooted to the floor.

"Atton," Disciple said, backing away carefully, "Kreia is using you."

"_Really?_" Atton remarked sarcastically. "I had no idea." He paused for a moment, thinking, perhaps of his time with the Sith, and how they had used him. Used him to do their dirty work, to kill Jedi. Alexian had thought he'd turned away from that. But if Kreia had persuaded Atton to see her view, things were going to get really bad, really quick. She should go out there and stop him, she should do something… but she couldn't. It was like a nightmare, where she was helpless to help those she cared for, loved, even. Again.

"Everyone uses each other, kid," Atton was saying. "And if she's using me to kill you, as I see it, I really don't lose anything." He scowled, stepping closer to Disciple, who took another step away. "I already lost what mattered to me.

"I wanted to help her, to protect her. And then you show up, playing hero. Fine."

Alexian almost felt like laughing, in a hopeless, demented sort of way. So what it all came down to was pure, animal jealousy. Those purest instincts were some of the easiest ways down the dark side.

"Atton," Disciple tried to explain, "the feelings between the Exile and I…"

Atton cut him off brutally. "Doesn't matter. Not any more."

He paused again, almost relishing the moment. "I had forgotten how much I _hate_ Jedi. And the less of you there are in the galaxy, the better."

Then he said those fatal words. Fatal, because he meant them. "Ready to die, kid?"

"I won't fight you, Atton," said Disciple bravely, hoping that Atton wouldn't strike down an opponent who wouldn't fight back. But Alexian knew him too well.

"I don't care, I just want you to die," Atton said slowly, drawing his now-red blade.

Her temporary paralysis wore off then in her flurry of fear. Drawing her lightsaber, Alexian charged down the bridge towards the two men. "Atton, no!" She cried.

He turned to face her, his eyes ice cold. "This doesn't concern you, Princess," he said, waving his hand at her. Using a technique she knew well, a technique _she_ had taught him, Atton put Alexian into temporary stasis. And then he turned upon Disciple.

At least her momentary distraction had given Disciple the time to draw his blade and block the first blow. "Thought you weren't going to fight, kid," Atton goaded.

"Not if it meant sacrificing my own life, no. But when you threaten another, it is my duty… as a Jedi… to defend them," Disciple panted heavily, just barely countering Atton's strike.

But his words had only served to send Atton deeper into fury. "Don't you know I would never hurt her?" He screamed, thrashing his blade wildly at his opponent and losing all semblance of his cool. "The Dark side is powerful. Much more powerful than the light. With that kind of power, I can protect her- I can protect her from anyone and everyone who ever threatens her, including you!"

Alexian fought this force-drawn paralysis, hoping, praying, that she would unfreeze in time. That she could stop this tragedy before it went any farther. But it was so hard, so hard to break.

"Atton, you're not protecting her, you're only making things worse!" Shouted Disciple. "Please, stop this madness, I beg you!"

But Atton had gone too far to turn back now. With a furious scream, he brought his blade down on his opponent before Disciple had the chance to block it. With one slash of that bright, shining blade, a good man's life was ended. And another man had just sealed his fate.

Pain and fear ravaged themselves through Alexian. The most powerful of all emotions raged through her, enabling her to throw off the force-stasis Atton had cast. She rushed him, feeling the entire time as if she had been ripped apart, and knowing it would make her stronger. But also it would ask a price of her, a terrible price.

Her silver blade came down inches next to his left shoulder, and Atton just barely managed to block it before she was thrusting again, and again. He had Echani training, more than he'd let on, and he called upon it now. But it wasn't enough to stop a madwoman, wasn't enough to stay her hand. With a twist of her wrist, her blade sliced neatly through his arm, detaching it. Weaponless, he stared up at her. Now he was the one defenseless.

"Isn't it ironic, Atton," she seethed, "that after all those years of killing Jedi, one has finally managed to best you. And now you will pay for your crimes." She saw the pure, animal fear in his eyes, but it only served to feed her, it gave him no power now. Then her shining blade, meant to be used in defense of good, pierced his flesh, and he knew no more.

Alexian held the blade in his heart, unable to move, struck by the horror of what she had done. The fear and anger had all seeped out of her now, leaving her empty, wounded.

As she stared at the body, at the second person she'd killed today, some of her anger was returned to her in her grief. "How could you?" she whispered harshly. "How could _you_ betray me, too? I _trained_ you, Atton! I showed you the ways of a Jedi, showed you that we do not kill except in defense!" Tears leaked out of her eyes and spattered faintly into the dusty ground where she sat. Alone.

Alexian squeezed her eyes shut to stop them. It wasn't right, weeping for Atton. Atton deserved his fate. But Disciple…Mical… didn't deserve death. Not like this.

She'd known his true name ever since he'd made that transmission on the Ebon Hawk, telling his superiors he'd found her. But she'd let him believe she was fooled. She sensed that he and his superiors, whoever they were, meant no harm toward her or her mission. She turned a blind eye whenever he gave them updates, and in return he'd helped her in more ways than he could imagine.

She'd trained him too, as well as Atton. The galaxy needed the Jedi to return, and so she'd trained every force-sensitive on her ship, as best she could. Atton, Disciple, Mira… But unless Mira had somehow survived the crash, all three of them were dead now. Dead on this planet of ghosts. And Alexian was once more the last of the Jedi.

She shut down her lightsaber and with finality turned her back on Atton. Crossing the bloodstained clearing, she knelt beside her Disciple. Keeping her tears at bay, she remembered his training. She thought she'd been doing something good, then. "Just another disaster," she whispered. "Just one more disaster I can add to everything that's happened after the Mandalorian wars.

"Kreia was right," she said, louder now. "No good deed goes unpunished! I've tried to do good, and look at me! Look where that road has brought me!

"Atris… I tired to help her. But she condemned me, told me I'd turned against the Jedi and against myself. She wouldn't accept my help. But _she_ was the one who had unknowingly fallen to the Sith, and their teachings… and when we met again, I was forced to kill her! And for what? For what?

"The Jedi Masters… I found them, brought them out of exile, so we could stand against the Sith together. But all they were focused on was getting rid of the _wound_ they saw in me, the emptiness they couldn't stand. I would even have accepted that, for the good of the galaxy, but Kreia… she killed them. Killed them all!

"And now Mical…_Mical!_" She found herself shrieking, and she forced herself to stop, to breathe, to remember where she was. But it didn't help at all.

Her voice lowered, but harsher still, Alexian continued. "Atris was convinced that I was wrong, that my motives were wrong. She was convinced that I had gone to war, and fallen in love with it, and went mad because I was forced to turn away from it." And then, it a quieter voice, "Was she right?"

"When I sought to protect others in the Mandalorian wars, was I really seeking good? Or… or was I just seeking attention?

"Is that all good deeds are, when looked at with an ice-cold eye?

"If this is true, then maybe that's the reason why no good deeds go unpunished! All helpful urges should be cast aside! Sure, I meant well… but look what's happened to me! Look where I am, and see that my good deeds have done nothing for me, or for others! Nothing!" She yelled.

Lowering her voice once again, she spoke to the body before her.

"I couldn't save you, Mical. I couldn't save you," she whispered severely. "But I promise you, it will not happen again. I promise you that I will never attempt to help another again."

She flung back her head and screamed to the lightning-wracked clouds. "Do you hear me? _No good deed will I ever attempt to do again!_"


End file.
